


What's a Little Trauma Between Friends?

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Big Gay Love Story, Breathing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fairies, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Jim, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Love, M/M, PTSD, Romance, Spock blames himself, Throat Injury, Trauma, Whump, distraught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: Distraught and dazed after a fairy vision, Spock accidentally injures Jim. Spock feels guilty, Jim feels like he has to fix everything, and Bones feels bitter that it took all of this for them to finally figure out their feelings.**not beta-ed**





	What's a Little Trauma Between Friends?

Jim catches the spin of Spock’s ears, the little tilt of his jaw, the slight tensing of the muscles by his eyes. He’s uncomfortable and anxious and a little too human for his cool Vulcan blood to appreciate. 

It’s the first time Jim has seen anything past his robotic exterior since he well... since he pressed on the big old bruise labeled, “I’m an extinct species as of today don’t fucking mess with me” to save all the crew’s asses. 

They’re standing on a planet and Spock is peering into a lake, the planet is inhabited with fairies, little nimble things with sharp teeth and black hearts and the ability to know what your heart wants most of all and to watch you see it destroyed in the bright blue ripples of their lake. 

Kirk already peered in, his younger self looking back, his feet dangling over the edge of a cliff. It was the day before he left for star-fleet, his step-father had threatened murder over rent and Jim had walked to the edge of their plain. 

He’d considered jumping but instead figured if he was gonna die why not help some poor souls first in space. 

But in the fairy version he watched as his former self cried, drew a little note with a stick in the dirt apologizing to his father for never growing up to be him, and then pushed off, the blonde hair disappearing into the unforgiving blackness of the ravine. 

What Spock’s mind had conjured up, Kirk had no way of knowing, had no way of guessing what it was like to live on a planet where you were the only mixed child in your entire species. What it was like to feel broken, to feel cursed in the eugenicist society you grew up in. 

But he had a hell of a guess. 

“Spock?” Jim brushed his arm against the man’s shoulder, his back tensing up, his arms coming around to push Jim up against a tree, one strong hand wrapped around the Captain’s throat. 

His eyes were wild, dark and pooling with something less than Vulcan, something Kirk recognized swirling in the amber remnants of a bottle of scotch with a black eye and an appreciation for walking home drunk to a sunrise. 

“Spock,” He whispered, carefully wrapping his fingers around the man’s wrist. 

His throat hold tightened and Kirk choked, his breath coming out in gurgles. 

Kirk hit the button on his communicator, “Scotty, get us out of here!” He croaked the best he could before slumping away to the crushing of his trachea. 

* * *

 

Spock’s hands trembled, they shook with the ferocity of his actions and his dreams. They shook with the ferocity of a man who had lost everything.They shook with the ferocity of a man who had watched Jim die right in front of him in that pool of water. They shook with the ferocity of a man who had strangled the love of his life. 

They shook and Spock stared at Jim, quiet and limp in the middle of the med bay, a gruesome bruise where Spock’s Vulcan strength had been, where Spock, wild and dazed, had latched and not let go. 

“It’s not your fault you dimwit,” A Southern drawl came from behind Spock’s shoulders, a scowl on the doctor’s face as he came around the side of the bed, checking on Jim’s vitals. 

Spock’s ears turned green. “No, of course not, it would be _illogical_ to blame the man whose hand prints are tattooed on the captain,” Spock replied, his tone icy and full of blame. 

Bones turned on him, his eyes fiery and for once Spock could see the tenacious young man who could control Kirk in all his glory. His blood chilled. “We can both agree that the captain is injured by your hand but as the medical professional I can presume it is logical that blame not be assigned to a dazed, traumatized victim of magic. Would one blame a schizophrenic off of medicine from having hallucinations? A diabetic of not producing insulin? Spock don’t take the blame that is not necessary.”

“Very well doctor,” Spock slid his eyes passively to the side of Jim’s face, counting the blonde hairs that had fallen unnoticed into his cheekbones. He cataloged the stubble that had grown in the time that he’d been lying there, still. Spock knew, logically, that the doctor was right. But some part of him, the human part, knew that he wouldn’t forgive himself for this. 

He had caused Jim pain and he could never get past that. 

* * *

 

Jim woke slowly, his mind floating on the edge of space and time, somewhere between one and the other, he could feel, his throat, his toes, his hands, warm from someone’s presence, but he couldn’t comprehend. 

There was light and sound and pain but nothing of importance. 

His ears turned on first, then his eyes, then his mind. 

“Jim? Atta boy!” Bone’s voice came from above him to the right. 

“Captain?” Spock’s voice, meek and mild, to his left. 

He could see the ceiling of the med bay, the clear outline of his oxygen mask, the sickening sight of Bones in scrubs with a pinched face and a lot of lecture mustered in his tiny, bitter body. Kirk hated that sight, it meant that he’d gone and gotten himself almost killed and Bones, worried about him for too long, was going to make him pay. 

Jim almost forgot how he got here but then his mind kicked on and he was up, turning to the side, pulling his hand from Spock’s grasp. 

“Are you okay?” He rasped in the general direction of Spock, his voice nowhere to be found excepting a mere whisper. 

“Sit back down you imbecile! Your trachea almost collapsed,” Bones chastised, pushing Jim back down on his back. 

“Captain I am fine, it should be I that is inquiring about the health of another,” Spock mumbled and if Jim didn’t know better he’d say there was a tinge of guilt underneath the Vulcan’s words. 

“I’m fine,” Jim pushed it off and Bones glared, his arms crossed. Oops, Jim forgot that wording was forbidden in the presence of the good doctor. 

“Fine my ass.”

“Come on Bones you know you love me.” Jim smiled up at him, batting his eyes and praying that Bones would drop it. 

“In your dreams,” Bones joked, “I would love to stay and lecture but I think you and your Vulcan boy need to chat.” 

Jim never thought he’d see that day that Bones left the med bay after he awoke without some kind of lecture. 

 _Score_... Wait talk with Spock? About what? Jim tilted his head for the first time towards Spock. He still looked tense but something else was brimming under the surface, his shoulders were hunched and he refused to make eye contact with Jim. 

“Spock?” The man flinched and Jim suddenly knew that he was right about the guilt in Spock’s voice. 

* * *

 

Spock had only cried three times in his life. The first when he was weaker than his bullies. The second when his mother and planet died. The third when Jim sat up and confronted him about his guilt and his injury and the bruise that Spock caused was glaring at him, the nasty purple incriminating in it’s twirling pattern. 

“Hey, hey,” Jim whispered, pulling Spock’s face to his chest and patting his back. Spock felt small and stupid and so so comforted. 

“I almost killed you, Jim,” It was the first time Spock let himself speak that name in front of his Captain, on the enterprise. 

“So what? A bee has almost killed me, you think I give a shit?” And then Spock was laughing despite himself and he felt even more alien. God, he was a mess. What would the _council_ say if they could see him? Weeping in the arms of a human who he loved, and laughing with the tears?

What would they say if they if they could see him? Pulling out of Jim’s embrace and staring at his pink lips? What would they say if they could see him? Abandoning every custom he’d been brought up with in favor of acting impulsively and kissing Jim, not caring if his feelings weren’t reciprocated?

And what would they say if they could see him? With Jim kissing him _back._

Well, Spock could only say to hell with the council, kissing Jim was worth more than the planet. Kissing Jim was his dream come true. Kissing Jim felt like all his tragedies were behind him and the future was overwhelmingly full of potential. 

* * *

 

“Wondered when those two idiots would finally end up together,” Bones rolled his eyes, sipped his coffee and quietly closed the door to Jim’s room, making a mental note to knock when he returned. 

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is! My first Star Trek fic, I hope you guys enjoyed it. If you did please leave feedback and tell me if this is a fandom you'd like to see me write more of. I'm trying to branch out from Supernatural and Marvel and I would appreciate knowing if you guys would like that. 
> 
> Thanks!  
> -C


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